What Day Is It, Anyway?

Tuesday, THURSDAY, Leander.

Not Tuesday, Whenever The Fuck You Get Around To It.

But sometimes we miss a deadline and it’s shockingly not the end of the world, eh?

This is one of those moments.

I’ve managed this morning schedule for a few weeks now:

Up at 06:45, make two bottles, prop the twins, set up the four year old, S, with filmpjes, brush teeth, shower, and dress myself in three point four two seconds, dress S and get him downstairs eating breakfast, grab a twin, dress them and buckle them into a carseat with a cookie, repeat with the second twin, make S’ lunch, pack his backpack, get shoes and coats on everyone, and pile into the car.

S and I get dropped off at school – P takes the twins to daycare and continues with his day – I trick S into embracing his fate and then walk to a local cafe for breakfast, entirely too much caffeine and a couple of hours of writing.

And THEN?

THE PERFECT WORLD.

My clothes are packed and I walk down to the local gym, sling some iron, then head home for meetings and a couple more hours of work.

Let me say that again – I’ve managed it FOR A FEW WEEKS NOW.

Yes, I know I’m using entirely too many caps, but I CAN’T HELP IT.

Not only do I have a gym membership, but I’m actually going AND I am SEEING RESULTS.

I have a leather coat. With two layers of zippers – one for when you don’t really need layers, one for when you need a couple of layers of sweaters underneath – and I haven’t used the skinny zipper SINCE MY ELDEST WAS BORN FOUR YEARS AGO.

STOP USING CAPS, LEANDER.

Okay, my b.

Ahem.

So I have this coat.

And even when using the outer zipper, I have to suck in all the way, then latch the zip, then settle in the layers, then zip a little, then adjust a bit, then zip a bit, then adjust – like, three or four times to get all zipped up.

But!

Earlier this week I put on the coat, sucked in, latched the zip, and then just ZIPPED IT UP.

All the way.

No pause.

No adjustment.

I was so surprised, I stood there not moving for a few seconds.

And then I skipped outside.

(And stopped skipping by the time I left the backyard cause our neighbors think those expats are weird enough as it is. But I should really embrace that shit. Anyway.)

And then.

Because of the zipper thing, I started looking around for other indicators and notice that it was even easier to pick up and wrestle with the Littles. Especially G who does NOT want to go into his car seat anymore cause he WANTS TO DO ALL THE THINGS DON’T STRAP ME DOWN, MAMA!

Necessary caps are necessary.

And then.

Last night was a party at S’ school and I was late, so I jumped on the bike to race over and I distinctly remember the last time I biked over to school.

It was in the bakfiets. S was in the front. It was really cold. And really early. And really dark. And, of course, we were late.

And I couldn’t bike any higher than first gear. It was exhausting. I was going super slow. Other bikes and cars were passing constantly. I was pushing myself as hard as I could and I was still going as slowly as a turtle.

To add insult to injury, there’s even an ever so slight hill UP leading to the center of town on the way to S’ school and then an ever so slight hill DOWN leading away, but still – that slight slant means it’s THAT MUCH HARDER.

Damnit.

But last night?

Last night I FLEW.

Initially, I flew down our street, attributing the speed to the adrenaline of being late, but the speed didn’t wane as I turned towards the ‘higher’ center.

And I just kept going.

After the center, I thought, “Oh, damnit, this is because of the cardio at the gym.”

I HATE CARDIO.

I only do five minutes to warm up before I lift.

And I hate every second of it.

But apparently it’s making a difference because I wasn’t gasping for air. And my legs are much stronger cause I was able to pump up the ‘hill’ that much more easily.

And THEN.

The twins have been waking up exceptionally early in the mornings.

For a while we had them trained to wake up at seven. But then they were sick and started waking up in the night and wanting a little milk or a cuddle and when you’re sick, FINE. But then when they got better, they had to be sleep trained again.

Which is fine.

But this week they started waking up at six again.

Not Cool, Leander Twins.

And this morning was no exception.

When it happens, I get up, turn on the white noise makers – yes, multiple white noise generators – and go back to bed.

But when the alarm went off at 0645, I just couldn’t even.

I blinked.

And it was 0704.

Groaning, “P, can you take all three kids this morning, pleeeeeeease?”

And so he did.

Except this weird thing happened.

I blinked and it was 0720.

It was storming. And cold. And P was managing all the kids.

And yet.

I wanted to maintain the morning routine.

Now, I’ll admit that I haven’t showered. Or brushed my teeth. But.

I crawled out of bed, slapped on clothes, grabbed my GYM clothes, packed my bag, helped P get the Littles out the door, dropped off S and walked to the local bakery.

And I’m going to the gym in twenty minutes.

I’m just as shocked as you are.

#SRSLY

We’re headed into the holiday week and I don’t know what’s going to happen – whether or not routines will be maintained or if publications will happen or if presents will be wrapped – anything’s possible.

But this year?

I have hope.

Hope that I’ll manage my depression.

Hope that the holidays will be manageable.

Hope that I can regain my strength and discover a new post-pregnancy body.

Hope that I’ll maintain routines and take care of Littles and my partner and MYSELF.

Hope that I can post twice a week on this frakin’ blog.

Hope that this holiday will be absolutely magical.

I hope you have an absolutely magical holiday, too.